"You're supposed to be on vacation, just remember that, detective Dylan. Don't tell a soul why you are in California."
"Yes sir," she said, smiling slightly, she was going to enjoy her "vacation" immensely. Her police chief eyed her suspiciously from across his desk. "Let me guess, you are going to enjoy this vacation, aren't you."
"Yes sir, I am." Considering that she would be working on this vacation it wasn't truly a vacation, but it was a walk in the park compared to what she had been dealing with.
"Just don't let me see your face on TV or in the newspaper if you decide to play hero, okay?"
"Yes sir, and while I'm on 'vacation', I shall try and bust that car theft and chopshop ring."
"Don't get smart with me Miranda Dylan. That's why you are going on vacation, and another thing, no telling any cops who you are. They would most likely recognize you for the work you've done here and that wouldn't help us. I trust you to stay low, and I don't care how long it takes to capture these goons, just do it."
"Yes sir," she smirked.
"I don't want to come and find half the criminals dead, or the mob boss dead because you were showing off. We do need some witnesses this time if you would be so kind," he finally smiled at her.
"I'll try to save some for interrogation sir, unlike last time. But it really wasn't my fault," she pointed out.
"I know, but the poor police chief didn't even have anyone to take to trial since you wiped them all out."
"Well, considering the drug dealer was dumber than a brick. It was his fault he shot at me in the middle of his meth lab and it exploded."
"You were lucky on that one," he frowned.
She nodded, rubbing her side. She had been lucky. When the place had exploded, she had dove behind a desk, and it had saved her life, but she had ended up with shrapnel wounds in her side when flying glass had hit her.
"I promise not to get shot at in a meth lab," Miranda said.
Her chief shook his head. "Just don't get shot at all, okay?"
"I'll try sir, but no promises, you know that."
He sighed. "I know that detective, but I would like you to come back in one piece."
"Yes, sir."
"Good, now here's a credit card, and no spending out the wazoo, okay? It's for food and your hotel."
"Thank you, sir."
"I already have you a room booked, it's booked for a month, and if you need it longer than that let me know."
"Yes, sir," she said once again.
"I am sending you to do this because you are the best, you know that, right?"
He wasn't quick with praise and having him say that was a true compliment.
"When you saved the city last week from that terrorist bomb, that was going above the call of duty, young lady."
"But I had help, sir."
"I know that, but you found the bomb, and helped the bomb squad diffuse it. I mean it, Miranda, and I also mean it when I said to take your time in catching these guys. You need a break, take in the sites, have some fun, okay?"
"I'll try sir."
He stood and shook her hand. "Now get out of here, your flight leaves in a few hours."
Miranda stood also. "I'm leaving now. My bags are in my car."
"The FBI knows you will be there, they had it approved also through the local police commissioner."
Miranda nodded at her boss. "Good thing. I wouldn't want to be arrested for sticking my nose in someone else's business," she teased.
"Like you ever would," he laughed. "Now get out of here and call me every few days so I know how you are doing."
Miranda nodded, "Okay, I'm leaving. See you in a few months."
"Or sooner," he said. He was hoping he would see her sooner. That the case she was working on would be a quick one, but then again, she looked worn out. A vacation for her would be good for her. He wished he didn't have to send her on a case out of state, but she was requested by the FBI themselves. They knew her work and knew she could get it done. He hadn't told her that though. He didn't need to feed her ego, not that her ego was big, but he didn't want it to become that way.
Miranda left the chief's office but was stopped just outside the door by her police partner Joe.
He smiled at her. "Hey partner, finally taking a vacation?"
Miranda smiled slightly, feeling guilty that he didn't know what she was up to.
"Yes, finally. The boss thinks I need one for some reason."
"I don't blame him. You have been ornery lately."
Miranda glared at him then smacked his arm. "Thanks a lot, Joe. I have not been ornery."
He smiled down at her petite figure. "I know. I'm just kidding. I have to give you a hard time before you leave."
"I noticed." She hugged him then. "I'll miss you," she said.
"I also partner. Don't be gone too long, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed. "Not more than a few months."
"A few months? I only got a week."
"I'm more special, and I work harder," she teased.
"That's for sure," he agreed. He was proud to have her as his partner. Before she had come to their precinct two years before, the crime rate had been extremely high in their city of Georgetown. He had been a detective, needing a partner when she had walked into the station one day, looking for work. The Chief had hired her, fresh from the academy, and put her with Joe. Thinking she would be killed in a few days he treated her like she was his kid sister and tried to protect her. Boy was he proved wrong. She showed him up in no time, and less than a year later had been made detective. She was good; he had to admit she was the best. The biggest drug dealers in the city were in prison for life now, and many crooks were off the streets. He didn't know how she did it, but a lot probably had to do with her looks. One look at Miranda and most men fell under her spell. Her face looked more like an angel than a cop, with her dark brown hair and hazel eyes, small nose and pouty lips, and she had a very nice figure. He towered over her at 6'4", her head barely hit his shoulders, but that didn't matter. Her looks were very deceiving. She could kick some serious criminal butt.
"Hello, earth to Joe," she teased, waving her hand in front of his eyes.
He smiled at her. "Sorry, I was just remembering when we met."
Miranda laughed. "Yes, I remember you treated me like a kid, I sure showed you, huh."
"You did, now aren't you supposed to be leaving?"
"Yes, I am. Catch you later," she said.
He nodded at her and watched her walk out the door. He would miss her but knew she would be back soon. She turned back then and blew him a kiss. A parting trademark of hers. Not that it meant anything. All it meant was that she would see him later. Too bad, he thought, but knew she had no personal feelings for him; otherwise, she would have let him know, he was sure of it. She was one to tell you how she felt, even if it hurt.
Outside the precinct, Miranda climbed into her convertible, turning on the air conditioner to dispel the late July heat. The airport was only ten minutes away. Her flight left at noon, and it was about ten-thirty. She had better hurry.
When she reached the airport, she was whisked right through. Airport security knew who she was. She had helped diffuse a bomb on an airplane only a few weeks ago. They sent her luggage through the x-ray machines, and let her through with her gun, only because of who she was.
She sat down in a chair to wait, looking around her as she did so. It had been a few months since she had flown. Of course, it had been for work. She wondered when she would ever fly just for fun. Hopefully one day, and maybe even with a boyfriend or husband, but she knew that was wishful thinking. She hadn't had a boyfriend in a long time, but only because she didn't have time for one. Her work kept her way too busy. Her last boyfriend, if he could be called that, lasted all of a month. He couldn't handle her being gone all hours of the day and night, and so had broken it off with her, but it was for the better. Her parents rarely spoke with her, they were world travelers and only called once every six months or so to make sure that she was still alive. She was okay with that, she had never been really close to them anyway. It was almost like she had been a burden to her parents. As a matter of fact, they didn't even know she was a cop. They never even asked her what she did for a living, and she wasn't about to tell them. She wondered if they would even show any emotion if she told them she had been shot a few times, more than likely not.